


if you wanna go to heaven (you should fuck me tonight)

by shortitude



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: And A Lot Of Fucking, Bell and Raven are kinky but in a healthy way, Domesticity, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Light Spanking, Love Confessions, Some Kink & Some Humour & Some Plot, established-relationship, healthy romantic relationship, sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 22:33:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9790076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortitude/pseuds/shortitude
Summary: 4 times Bellamy and Raven are tired as hell, but have sex anyway. 1 time they're not, and don't.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [semele](https://archiveofourown.org/users/semele/gifts), [MarauderCracker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarauderCracker/gifts), [growlery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/gifts).



> this one's been on the backburner since before s4 came out, and so now it makes vague references to s3, s4, and speculates them into some far future where they grow carrots and live happily on earth again. ps no offense but it's mostly just porn?? i thought you'd missed that from me, SOOOOO...

1\. 

Her lower back is killing her, which pulls a groan out of Raven when she finally gets to sit down on the bed. 

"That's it. I'm never getting up again," she grunts, and flops backwards onto the hard mattress made of hay and feathers and old cloths stuffed together. (The casing belonged to a bed that survived the nuke war, found in an underground bunker, abandoned and mouldy. They restored it together, so it's as much theirs as anything could be.)

The mattress sinks under his weight when Bellamy sits down, with as much of a suffering groan as hers. Agriculture is hard work. Manually ploughing a field, even if it's a small one, has left them exhausted. She's sure the rest of their people empathise.

"Oh, that feels better," he murmurs, one hand on the top of her thigh, eyes closed as he sighs out slowly.

She opens her eyes and looks at the back of his head with an amused grin. Her fingers reach his hair well enough to twirl around the wild curls of it at this angle. "You're getting older."

"Mm." His hand goes a little bit higher up on her thigh, and Raven inhales softly and tugs on his hair.

Her voice stays casual. "Going soft in your old age?" 

He slips his fingers down between her legs, just touching the inside of her thigh above her jeans, but igniting a spark instantly. He breathes in deep, turns to look down at her over his shoulder. Bellamy smiles.

(There are nights when they lie twisted in bed and he will feel her squirming against him in want, and will laugh against her neck. _I can practically smell you,_ he will say, and she will protest with a comment about how that's just creepy, but secretly love the fact that he's so attuned to her that he can tell when she wants him.)

He smiles at her like he can tell where she's going with the tease. Like she's obvious.

Cheeky, Raven pulls her hand away and drops her arms on each side of her head, in surrender. "It's okay, I'll let you off the case. I know you're just so tired," and finishes with a laugh, because he has already shifted and covered her with his body, caught her lips with his in a kiss. 

"You think you're so smooth," he laugh-teases against his lips, tongue following with a sensual lick that has her shivering and awake, alert. She's not tired, not her.

"Mmm, you know I am," she says, letting her hands run down his back and slipping them under his shirt. 

Bellamy moves down on her body, letting her take his shirt off with the motion. See? Smooth. 

He kisses her stomach above her shirt, then the sliver of skin revealed between it and her pants. If she hadn't taken her brace off she would be arching her hips better at this point. The taking off of her pants is a bit clumsy, but neither of them care much for how sensual or sexy they are when it fulfills a functional purpose. 

Bare from the waist down now, Raven shivers only slightly and lets her legs fall open just as he presses his mouth against her clit. She sinks her fingers into his hair just as he licks her folds open. They synch up action and reaction as if this is a dance they've been practising for time now. Months, is it?

He hums at her in question, eyes open and gaze cloudy with arousal focused on her face. "Yes, good," she confirms with a raspy voice, and lets her head fall back and lets go.

Her ass cradled in his hands, her legs over his shoulders, she rides his mouth slowly, there's time, easy does it. They're exhausted, but never too much for this, never too tired for each other. 

It's all about Raven, until he's gently pried three soft, long and luxurious orgasms out of her, and then she can pull him up for a kiss. 

He is hard now, unashamedly rocking against her hip when he presses up against her. Months ago, at the start, it took her a dozen tries to get him to learn to ask for pleasure for himself. Now, he takes one of her hands and brings it down to press it against his arousal, and he's never been more gorgeous.

"Stay close," she whispers, and swallows his vulnerable groan. She sinks her free hand into his hair and undoes his pants with the other one, wrapping it around his cock. It's a good thing she washes her hands after work, or they'd have to pause now and it would be such a shame.

He whispers her name like a plea, and she takes mercy because he deserves that. Jerks him off slow and steady, plays with him for a few moments, and then speeds up until he's twitching against her. He comes on her stomach and in her hand, and she kisses him through it, or he kisses her, or devours her mouth, or whatever it is. This level of hunger is more than just kissing.

Then it's over. The moment passes, they're once again bone-tired and limp, pulling the blankets up over them and passing out tangled up in each other until the morning.

2.

They didn't always have the bed. At the beginning, the new beginning of them as a thing that moved and breathed together, there was the uncomfortable individual cots left behind by Ark survivors that don't make it, and beds brought in from Mount Weather. 

For sentimental reasons neither Bellamy nor Raven opt for the latter. It's in a small, narrow cot that they fuck for the first time since the only other time in his bed, and it's not the first time they sleep in it together. 

With the evil AI destroyed, their people are left to lick their wounds until who the fuck knows what happens next, and when the dust settles she shows up at Bellamy's door with a _thank you_ on her lips. She sleeps in his arms that night, not shaking anymore, but shaken by the acute feeling that maybe he's the only place that's safe for her anymore.

The first time they fuck, it's a week later. She's resting behind him, with Bellamy curled up into her, his back to her chest, because they fit the bed better this way and because he's exhausted from the nightmare that woke them both up. 

She rubs her hand against his chest in slow circles, somehow trying to help him sleep, but simultaneously aware of every nervous termination of hers that works. 

He brings her hand up to his lips and presses then to each finger for an individual kiss. She breathes out when he's delivered the fifth. 

"You're softer than I thought," he whispers, probably not thinking she's awake. "Warmer." He kisses her pulse, and she remembers suddenly what his hands on her body felt like, wants then again like she hasn't dared to want a thing.

She brings her hand down to his chest, curls her fingers into his shirt at the same time as she presses her other hand between his shoulder blades lightly. "Come here," she whispers, voice certain, "I'll make you warmer."

He shifts until he's facing her, and they share a very silent look, like two deer in the headlights, before some tension snaps. Hungry mouths seek each other,hungry fingers grab and claw at clothes and skin.

She pulls him on top of her more than he rolls to cover her body with his, and quickly works at getting his pants off. Hers follow easier. 

"No, come here," she urges when she sees him bending down to kiss between her legs. Grabs for him, coils round him, doesn't let go. "Come inside me, I just want you inside me."

He slides in with some initial effort, and Raven holds onto him all the way. She hasn't felt full in what feels like forever, and now she does.

They don't last. He doesn't last. It's uncoreographed, frantic, a quick and messy affair. 

She goes back to holding him afterwards, feeling looser, tension in her back gone anyway, lips pressed to the nape of his neck.

"I'll be better next time," he promises sleepily.

Raven quietly rejoices at the fact that it will happen again. She smiles and kisses his neck. "Good."

3.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” she says, and across from her, lying on his side with his head in the other pillow, Bellamy lets out a low amused huff.

His eyes roll in that amused way he has of saying, _I don't know how I ever thought you were a scary explosion ready to happen._ Raven resents it -- she's still pretty great. 

He reaches up and covers her hand where it rests in front of her on the pillow. Lying on her side isn't as comfortable anymore, but she's gotten better at it lately. Not forcing the brace on herself while in bed helps. Not having to pretend like she's always switched on to full mental strength does, too; it's okay to be vulnerable around him, because he never judges her for it.

He just judges her humour. And she has _a great sense of humour, Bellamy._ She's too tired to fight him on this now, anyway.

The harvest of their hard labour was today, and they have spent it on their knees, pulling vegetables and roots out of the fertile soil, all of them. Then they had meal, the first one with the produce they'd grown from preserved seeds from the Ark, and celebrated it down with some moonshine.

Raven passed on the booze, but she is drunk on a full belly for a change, on her limbs aching from doing more than working on machinery. She's clean, she's sated, and with Bellamy lying down next to her so close, looking so good with his freckles darker from exposure to the sun, she is also suddenly horny. 

Bellamy notices and smirks. “Is there something you need?” 

She licks her lips and pulls on his wrist until he shifts closer and they kiss. They make out. It's nice and clean and undemanding. He runs his hands up her side, caresses her cheek, licks into her mouth and reaches down to grope her ass.

“Is there something _you_ need?” she asks, after a short laugh. He gropes her ass in response and waggles his eyebrows.

“Maybe.”

Poor Bellamy, still thinking he's a badass years later. She likes him the most in moments like these, when he's funny and young, when he's open and soft and human in his hunger and his wants. 

“Come take it, then,” she whispers, her body aching with tiredness but also aching for something else entirely. 

He comes, he takes. 

Whispers his gratitude against her skin, in kisses and licks. Expresses his desires in a tighter grip on her hips, in grinds against her. 

She is flipped over on her stomach in a heartbeat, his rolled up jacket pushed under her hips to hold her ass up without effort or strain. He pulls her pants down together with her underwear and Raven groans, wriggles her hips and squeezes her eyes shut at the sudden wave of arousal. 

A curse comes out of her mouth, and he lets out a small laugh and gives her right cheek a pat, unintended to sting. She gasps under the sudden curl of pleasure, ground pulled from under her for a few seconds. 

“Jesus,” curses Bellamy behind her, his thumbs pulling her cheeks apart enough to allow him to touch her clit better like this. “You're dripping,” he marvels. “From that?”

Probably, Raven thinks, but she'll be damned if she knows why it’s suddenly a hot thing. She swallows a knot in her throat and says, “We'll discuss it later. Not now. Just fuck me.”

If he somehow finds the energy to screw her into the mattress, if she somehow finds the energy to moan louder than ever, the truth is that they don't discuss it for days afterwards. It's easier to blame the crops.

4.

She has done the unthinkable, and brought music into their place. It’s, at this point, more of a hut than a tent (they’re working on that, too, not just feeding the people, you see). She fixes the old device in the morning, and brings it over by the night with the intention of surprising him. Sort of like a _ta da, our hut is a home now, right?_

Of course, the music doesn’t keep them from being tired. Nothing keeps them from that nowadays; they’re constantly tired. Left to look after so many survivors in the new beginning of life on Earth is...it’s harrowing and difficult. When it’s not the crops that have them exhausted, it’s the survivor’s guilt that kicks back in. 

But they are better at moving on, nowadays. 

The music is a light sort of song, the kind you can let lull you into a sense of security without caring about the lyrics. Her solar-powered batteries will keep this one little nugget charged for five days at least, and even if it’s less, she’s testing it out by letting it play until it’s over. She doesn’t ask who the ipod belonged to anymore. It has a half-torn sticker they used to hand out on the Ark stuck to its back, and nobody’s come forward to claim it, so she can only guess that the person isn’t missing it. 

She has stripped herself to her t-shirt and shorts by the time Bellamy joins her, and crawled under the covers to read. He greets her with a silent smile, a grim one. 

“It’s one of those days for you too, huh?” she asks, and he just nods. 

Sits on the edge of the bed, takes off his boots and jacket, and struggles out of his jeans before finally slumping back against the wall. She adjusts herself to rest against his chest, her own silent ‘I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere’. The music plays on. Raven hands Bellamy the book. 

He picks up where they left it off, with the heroes dodging a three-headed dog and being punished to go into the forest at night. Raven makes a few odd comments here and there, snide remarks about how the crime and punishment in that magical school is about as effective and fair as it was on the Ark. 

At some point, his free hand runs down her back, and rests on top of her ass, and although neither know the song, and neither are paying attention to the music, when it’s Raven’s turn to read the next chapter out loud for them, he starts tapping to the beat. _Pat, pat, pat_ , softly against her almost bare cheek. 

She couldn’t care less who’s the creeper drinking unicorn blood. 

She snaps the book shut and looks up at him with a serious expression. 

“Are you teasing or are you gonna put out?” 

He meets her gaze silently for a few moments, and Raven thinks that maybe she’s found the one thing he’s not willing to try out, the one thing that puts him off. (It has to exist, right? He can’t want her in any shape or form, _who does that?_ ) 

_Smack_ , goes her skin, the sting surprising and surprisingly delicious. Her eyes go wide, his eyes crinkle in a smile, and she doesn’t know whether to laugh or moan so she does both. 

He rolls her onto her back and kisses her, hungrily, while smoothly extracting the book from the bed and leaving it on the floor, and taking her shorts off. She takes care of her shirt as Bellamy kisses down her chest, aiming for nowhere in particular and managing to cover everything with small, enticing kisses. 

She is so beyond awake now. 

His hand, his fantastic big and capable hand, pats her ass again, delivering another slow tease of a smack, and she arches with another gasp. 

“That your kink, huh?” he teases.

“Only with you,” she says when she catches her breath. “And only a little at a time, and only sometime.” It’s like spice. Not that she knows what spice _is_ , but it’s like that; added to sex, it’s nice, but too much of it and it overpowers everything else. 

“I can work with that,” Bellamy says, and kisses her belly right above her bellybutton. “Trust me.”

“Always.” It goes without saying: she’s letting him spank her and all, she reasons. 

He comes back up for another kiss, and hooks her legs over his arms, pulling her down until she lies fully on her back. Ass up, legs spread open, dripping, dripping, _needy_. She digs her fingers into his shoulders, whispers his name against his temples and lets him look down so he doesn’t miss; not that he would, he can find his way inside her even half asleep at this point. 

But fully awake it better, she thinks. 

Fully awake, she sees the way his eyes widen when he pushes inside, the way his breath stutters out of him. Fully awake, his kisses taste like desperation and love, or like desperate love; it’s all the same by now, isn’t it? 

He doesn’t say it, but she thinks this is where he’s gotten a victory over Finn: he doesn’t need to say it for her to feel it. That he loves her, the way she’s always wanted to be loved, is clear in his every action. 

The kiss distracts her from thinking, and the sudden sharp thrust he gives distracts her from everything else. 

Somewhere in the middle of what follows, he tries to spank her while fucking her and ends up smacking his own thigh. They burst out laughing, kiss it out, and agree: “One at time.” 

The rest goes without a hitch or trick, because the truth is, Raven doesn’t really need spice to get off. All she needs is him. 

5\. 

One morning, mid-summer, she wakes up exactly as she fell asleep: cradled in his arms, with her head on his chest. His hands have stayed exactly where they were last night. 

For once, the pain she feels when she wakes up isn’t as overwhelming that it drowns out the good. She wakes up slowly, like she is made of time, and has enough time to watch Bellamy sleep. Watch him wake up. 

When he opens his eyes, he looks down at her; she knows without needing to ask, that this is what he does every morning. He makes sure she’s still there, and she’s safe, and comfortable. Once he knows all those to be true, he smiles, he exhales, and he squeezes her gently closer. 

Today, Raven is awake for it. Today, she decides this is when. Now is right. 

“Hey,” she says. 

“Hi,” he says back. 

“I love you, okay?”

He looks awake now. 

The thing is, she doesn’t expect him to let her down, or tell her that it’s not mutual; Bellamy’s been acting like he’s been in love with her for years now, she knows. But it matters that he knows _she_ feels the same way, because she keeps these words closer to heart. She doesn’t want him to second-guess himself about her feelings, she wants him to know. 

The smile he gives her is a treasure. Better than the Rover. Better than five of them.

“I love you too.” 

“Oh, I know.” 

He smirks; she smiles back. He brushes her hair behind her ear and pulls her in for a long hug. 

“Okay.” 

That’s all, really. They’re wide awake and in love, they’re together, and every now and then they even manage to feel at peace with everything that came before this. The confession, in the true spirit of them, doesn’t turn out to be melodramatic, nor is it followed by tender love-making. They hug it out until the rest of the settlement stirs and starts making noise outside their hut, and then they get dressed and go have breakfast with the rest of their people. 

For them, it’s more than enough. It’s everything they need.


End file.
